House: The Basics
by Bloody Koalas
Summary: Debatable? I think not. You think you know them, but do you really understand the cast of House, M.D.? A series of seemingly unrelated oneshots.
1. The Great List

**A/N: I don't know how this idea has been written before. I like it, though, and I'm going to try and write with it.**

**Sorry if you've used it in the past—I didn't mean to 'steal' it.**

**By: Hadley**

**Disclaimer: It's a Wonderful Lie, even if I don't own House.

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What I've Learned From House M.D.

1. It's never Lupus.

2. Whatever your ailment, it can be cured using an illegal drug/ narcotic.

3. Every doctor is attractive.

4. Oncologists and Immunologists have similar personalities.

5. Wearing a low neckline will result in merciless teasing.

6. Motorcycles have special compartments for canes.

7. General Hospital must be watched at all costs.

8. Clinic duty is helpful when solving diagnostic puzzles.

9. All clinic patients are idiots.

10. When you break into someone's house, it's always better to have a white chick with you.

11. Also, when breaking into someone's home, it is O.K. to eat their food.

12. Brunettes have all the fun.

13. Avoid telling your employees why you hired them.

14. Getting a cute nickname from your boss means you'll be fired. (CTB? Wombat?)

15. When going to see a doctor in another country, don't lose the medical records.

16. Real men watch soap operas.

17. Carmen Electra is hot, and can be used as a personal substitute when telling stories.

18. Parents of patients will always be annoying and hard to convince.

19. Most knowledge used to solve diagnostic puzzles cannot be learned in medical school; rather, the information is gained personal experience.

20. Breaking into a patient's home is perfectly acceptable—as long as you're not caught.

21. People don't change.

22. Patient's whose ailments are not diagnostically challenging will almost always end up being diagnosed with a serious underlying condition.

23. Sleeping with anyone and everyone, particularly co-workers, is perfectly acceptable.

24. Garfield "sure does love lasagna".

25. Finally, everybody lies.

**A/N: This is my Friday Night write. A little late, considering its Sunday. Oh well.**


	2. Creating the World

**A/N: So I was on the bus listening to the sound of ten thousand whiny kids screaming when I thought of this. Enjoy. And, as I'm pretty sure you can guess, I don't like Amber much. : )**

**Disclaimer: Hmmm…I actually believe that the relationship between me and the ownership of House, M.D. is a negative one. Strange, very strange. **

_If Gregory House Created the World…_

1. …Women with cleavage would all wear low-cut tops.

2. …There would be lackeys to do everything for you.

3. …Pharmacies would give out pills for free.

4. …Scratch that—pharmacies would hand deliver pills, using hooker delivery-women.

5. …The delivery women are allowed to stay awhile.

6. …He would've made Wilson do it, in which case the world would've been finished only after a great deal of stress and hurt feelings.

7. …Barbie dolls wouldn't come with clothes.

8. …It would be illegal to enter a clinic if you were sniffling/coughing.

9. …Holidays would be forbidden.

10. …It would always be Lupus, just to make everything easier.

_If Allison Cameron Created the World..._

1. …People wouldn't ever suffer.

2. …House would like her.

3. …Chase would confess that he was over her.

4. …House would visit his patients every once in a while.

5. …Amber would die.

6. …Puppies would come conveniently already covered in sugar.

7. …She'd have to ability to heal her late husband.

8. …She could protect House.

9. …Drunkies would only enter the E.R. from the hours of 9:00 am to 3:00 pm.

10. …Pop songs would have better wisdom.

_If Robert Chase Created the World..._

1. …Everyone would know the difference between an Australian accent and a British accent.

2. …Cameron would be in love with him.

3. …Better yet, Cameron _and_ Thirteen would be in love with him.

4. …He was still a duckling.

5. …Taub wouldn't be a kiss-ass.

6. …House wouldn't have been shot—Guns would be illegal.

7. …Fathers would take care of mothers.

8. …Slash fics wouldn't pick on poor innocent Aussies.

9. …House would grow up. Just a little.

10. …Two words—paid vacations.

_If Eric Foreman Created the World..._

1. …Neurology would be readily accepted.

2. …Nurses would make really amazing girlfriends.

3. …Cameron would just _stop_ with House.

4. …Employee history would be off-limits to anyone but the highest officials.

5. …House would grow up. A lot!

6. …And, well…there's not much else, really. The world was made this way for a reason.

_If James Wilson Created the World..._

1. …House would be ordered to pay for his own lunch.

2. …Vicodin wouldn't be addictive.

3. …Vicodin wouldn't cause liver problems.

4. …Tritter would die. 

5. …Not just die, but die a horrible, painful death where he couldn't escape because his car was taken away. And his credit cards are suspended. 

6. …Three words—Cure for cancer.

7. …Mark would die.

8. …House would back off (of Amber).

9. …Couches would be much more comfy.

10. …Doctors would never get sick.

_If Cutthroat Bitch Created the World..._

1. …Who are we kidding? She'd give herself a bone-marrow biopsy before giving others a chance at life! 


	3. Cuddy's Nightmare

**A/N: So, last chapter I left out Cuddy. I like to think that, because everyone's favorite medical dean is just the picture of sophistication and elegance, she doesn't need to rule the world. Naturally, I couldn't let my mind come to a single conclusion. So, here's my other scenario. Enjoy!**

**Note: The end is a teeny bit gory…**

**Disclaimer: Although I do own several of Cuddy's erratically proportioned blouses, I do not actually own Cuddy, and therefore I don't own House, M.D.**

Lisa Cuddy organized some of the files waiting impatiently on her desk, each one seeming to call out, "Pick me first!" She ignored their nonexistent shrieks and her mind darted to the subject of her mental well-being—did she _actually_ just think that the files had talked? _Nonsense, _she told herself, quietly opening the bottom drawer and shoveling the loudest of the files away. The poor woman hadn't slept all night, and it had taken an extra layer of concealer to cover the dark bags under her eyes.

There was a knock at the door, followed by a serious of shrill sighs. "Come in, Brenda," Cuddy said calmly, even smiling to imitate a presence of sanity.

Henceforth came the worried message. "Dr Cuddy, there's something you need to see."

"Alright. Where is it?"

Brenda stammered. "Well…I couldn't find Doctor House. I sent Dr. Taub to find him…and he came back and reported that House was in the clinic. Happily, in the clinic."

Cuddy's mouth dropped. "You—you mean to say that…House is _enjoying _clinic duty?"

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy. But he's also treating people with colds! Normal, not teenage sick people!"

Cuddy stood up forcefully. "Brenda, I'm worried. Something must've happened. What do you think he did? What do you think he _took_?"

Brenda shook her head unhappily. "I'm not sure. But I know who would."

"Wilson."

* * *

"Dr. Wilson, I—" Cuddy trailed off unhappily. The office was vacant. Dreadfully, horribly, vacant. And yet, something was different with the room. It was almost…darker than it had been before. Which was particularly intensified because of the golden Princeton spring sunlight flowing into the room. Cuddy paced the floors before tripping over a test tube on the floor. She felt a strange sensation then, almost as if a writer were watching her every move and recording it on paper. But the doctor ignored the feeling and picked up the mysterious oddly placed test tube valiantly. There was a chalky residue on the inside of it. She would send it to the lab for testing. 

And then Cuddy walked out of Wilson's office. If she had to go to the front lines, so be it.

* * *

"So, sweetheart, what's bothering you?" House talked calmly, as if this was his normal demeanor.

"Umm…" replied the blonde girl whose hands-on-hips personality would usually bother House immensely. "I can't find my mom."

"Oh, don't cry!"

"I'm _not_. I'm almost 9. We _don't_ cry."

"Well, here! Have a lollipop."

"…thanks. Can you tell me where there's an intercom system or something? She's like, my mom. I sort of need to find her."

"Sure thing! Let me just call for Dr. Cuddy." House stuck his head outside of the exam room. "Dr. Cudddddyyyyy!"

Cuddy heard her name being yelled halfway across the hospital. She quickened her pace from a determined walk into a horrified sprint. There was actually…sweetness in his voice. She feared the worst.

"House!" she panted, having reached the clinic. She examined him. He looked fine…except for one thing. "Where the hell is your cane?"

"Oh, that. I don't need it anymore, ever since my change in prescription." The girl in the corner slid out of the room unnoticed. She was, needless to say, a little frightened.

"_What_ are you taking?" Cuddy's face showed nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.

"Just vicodin. Wilson made it."

Cuddy's face whitened. "And _where_ is Wilson?"

"In my office. I gave it to him. He says that I don't need it anymore—he's right! I'll be here, helping everyone in the clinic, and I won't even have time to solve cases!" But Cuddy didn't get to hear the last of his words. She was already running to the Diagnostics room.

* * *

The air around the room hung thick like a fog. Cuddy strained her eyes to see through the darkness. She reached out to turn on the lights, but the switch was stuck. She shuddered. "Dr. Wilson?"

A voice called out from the chair by House's desk. "Cuddy—get out of here!"

She took a step closer. "What did you give House?"

The earlier voice made a whimper, and a new sound took over. This one was definitely female. "What do you care?"

Cuddy quickly took three steps forward. The first voice called out again. She thought it was Wilson. "Cuddy! Leave, before—" And then the voice was no more.

Cuddy's medical alert turned into adrenaline. She spun the chair around, but as she did, talons gripped her arm and dug deep, penetrating the skin and holding until torrents of crimson blood poured freely from the wounds. "He warned you."

Cuddy couldn't see who the speaker was, but it was definitely the female one. She was too busy looking at the crumpled figure of Wilson on the ground. "He's…dead!" Was all she could say. 

The speaker grinned a wicked grin. "And soon House will be too!"

Only then did Lisa Cuddy realize who the speaker was—Amber Volakis, Wilson's girlfriend and murderer. She had come up with the vicodin formula, messed up House's fellows, everything. And now she was going to kill Cuddy.

* * *

And then she woke up.

She jumped out of bed and wrote a single thing in her notebook: _1. ...Amber would die._ But then she crossed it out. Cuddy had a strange feeling that a certain immunologist would take care of it for her.


End file.
